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'A ,1 *w 

i Barbara Low 

The famous Introduction to f reud, written by his 
daughter and characterized by the Tim 
literary Supplement os "a lurid c<nd simpli 
exposition of Freudian principles." 

132 P88p 65-42094 


Psycho-anaiysis for teachers 

and parents. 

132 F88p 65-42094 
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Psycho-analysis for teachers 
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APR "1965 


for Teachers and Parents 


for Teachers and Parents 








First published as a Beacon paperback in 1960 
by arrangement with Emerson Books, Inc. 


These four lectures were given be- 
fore the teachers at the Children's 
Centers of the City of Vienna. 


Infantile Amnesia and the Oedipus Complex n 

The Infantile Instinct-Life 40 

The Latency Period 64 


The Relation Between Psychoanalysis and 
Pedagogy 92 

Index 115 


for Teachers and Parents 


Infantile Amnesia and 
the Oedipus Complex 

We are all aware that practical teachers are 
still very suspicious and doubtful of psycho- 
analysis. When, therefore, in spite of this, you 
Hort teachers of Vienna * determined to have 
a short course of lectures from me, you must 
somehow or other have received the impres- 
sion that a closer acquaintance with this new 
science might be able to afford you some help 

* The word Hort has been left in German, as it appears 
likely to mislead if an English substitute were attempted. 
A quotation from an account of a Hort has been included 
by way of explanation: "The Hort is a kind of kindergarten, 
but particularly for children from six to fourteen years of 
age. The kindergarten itself only takes children up to six 
years or until school age. The children who come to the 
Hort are the children of parents who go out to work. They 
come daily and return to their parents in the evening. Here, 
in the Hort, they prepare their school homework, occupy 
themselves with light work or communal games, and are 
taken for outings by the Hort workers." 


in your difficult work. After you have listened 
to the four lectures you will be able to decide 
whether you were very wide of the mark in 
this supposition, or whether I have been able 
to fulfill at least some of your expectations. 

In one particular direction I have certainly 
nothing new to oiler you. I should fail in my 
object if I attempted to tell you anything about 
the behavior of schoolchildren and children of 
these centers, since you are in this respect in 
a most advantageous position. An immense 
amount of material passes through your hands 
in your daily work, and teaches you to rec- 
ognize very clearly the whole range of the 
phenomena before you: from the physically 
and mentally retarded children, the obstinate, 
cowed, lying and ill-treated children, to the 
brutal, aggressive and delinquent ones. It is 
better not to attempt to give you a complete 
list, for you might well point out to me a large 
number of omissions. 

But the very situation that gives you such a 
complete knowledge of these phenomena has 
its drawbacks. You are obliged, as the educa- 
tors of the children of these Horts just as you 


were as teachers In the schools and In the 
kindergarten ceaselessly to act. The life and 
movement In your classes or groups demand 
constant interference on your part; you are 
obliged to admonish, discipline, keep in or- 
der, employ, advise, and instruct the children. 
The authorities above you would be greatly 
dissatisfied if it suddenly occurred to you to 
withdraw to the position of a passive observer. 
Thus it comes about that in the practice of 
your profession you become acquainted with 
numberless visible manifestations of childish 
behavior, but you are unable to arrange sys- 
tematically the phenomena before your eyes, 
nor can you trace to their original source the 
manifestations of the children on whom, how- 
ever, you are bound to react. 

Perhaps even more than the opportunity 
for undisturbed observation you lack the 
power to make a right classification and ex- 
planation of the material you possess, for such 
a classification demands very special knowl- 
edge. Let us assume for the moment that one 
of you among my audience is specially inter- 
ested in finding out why certain children in 


a particular group suffer from Inflamed eyes 
or rickets. He knows that these children 
come from miserable, damp homes, but only 
medical knowledge can explain clearly to 
him the special way in which the dampness 
of the walls in the home causes the child's 
Illness. Another of you, perhaps, concentrates 
his attention on the dangers to which the 
children of drunkards are exposed owing to 
their inheritance; in this case he must study 
the teachings of heredity. Whoever wishes to 
discover the connection between unemploy- 
ment, the housing shortage, and neglected 
children must try to get some insight into 
sociology. But the teacher who desires to 
learn more of the mental background of all 
the phenomena of which I have told you 
earlier, and who would like to understand 
the differences between them and follow their 
slow development in the case of the individ- 
ual child, may very possibly obtain informa- 
tion through the new science of psycho- 

Any such assistance in practical work 
through increased knowledge seems to me of 


special importance to the workers in these 
Horts for two reasons. The Children's Hort, 
which is obliged to receive all children ex- 
posed to various dangers in and out of their 
parents' homes in the intervals when they are 
not at school, is the youngest of the municipal 
educational institutions of the City of Vienna. 
The Children's Hort is regarded as the rem- 
edy for the growing neglect of children. It 
owes its existence to the belief that in the 
earlier stages of neglect and asocial behavior a 
beneficial influence is best exercised in the 
Hort which is close to, and yet free from, the 
school or parental environment. It is felt that 
it is much more difficult to do this later by iso- 
lating in reformatories the long-neglected or 
criminal adolescents, who are then too often 
beyond any educational experiments. But at 
present there is no compulsory attendance at 
the Hort. The authorities can compel the par- 
ents to send their children to the schools to be 
taught, but whether they will entrust to the 
Hort a child to whom they can give at home 
only the worst of conditions is, at present, a 
matter for the parents' own judgment. Hence 


it follows that the Children's Hort must con- 
stantly justify Its existence to each child and to 
its parents by especially successful work, just 
as, before the introduction of compulsory 
vaccination, parents had to be again and again 
convinced of the necessity for inoculation. 

But the worker at the Child Hort has an- 
other special difficulty inherent in his posi- 
tion. He has to deal almost exclusively with 
children who have already had a whole series 
of more or less profound experiences and who 
have passed through the hands of numbers of 
educators. He must note that these children, 
at any rate at first, do not in the least react to 
his real individuality and to his actual be- 
havior toward them. They simply bring with 
them a preconceived attitude of mind, and 
may approach the teacher with the suspicion, 
defiance, or feeling of having to be on guard 
which they have acquired through their per- 
sonal experience of other adults. Moreover, 
the life of the child in the Children's Hort is 
only supplementary to his school life, and the 
Hort generally adopts methods more liberal, 
humane, and modern than prevail in most 


schools. Thus It happens that the standard of 
behavior which the school demands from, and 
inculcates into, the children often proves a 
hindrance to the Hort in the attainment of its 
own aims. 

The position of the worker in the Child 
Hort is, therefore, by no means enviable. In 
almost every case he has a difficult task before 
him which requires independent action and 
understanding, but unfortunately he comes 
late to the scene as coworker and educator. 

But we should be unjust to the school If 
we were to estimate the position of the teacher 
there as more favorable than that of the Hort 
worker. As a matter of fact teachers complain 
that they seldom get the child at firsthand, 
and that it is very difficult, for example, to ac- 
custom the children in the first classes of the 
elementary schools to a correct and serious at- 
titude toward the teacher and definite in- 
struction, since until then they have lived in 
the play atmosphere of the kindergarten. 
They bring with them into the school the be- 
havior acquired in the former, which is no 
longer suitable in the latter. 


Yet when we turn to the kindergarten 
teachers who, according to the view just ex- 
pressed, should be in the enviable position of 
dealing with untilled ground, we hear to our 
amazement the complaint that even the three- 
to-six-year-old children dealt with in the 
kindergarten are nothing but "ready-made 
men/* Each child brings with him a collection 
of characteristics, and reacts to the behavior 
of the kindergarten teacher in his own precise 
fashion. There is to be discovered in each 
child a perfectly definite constellation of 
hopes and fears, dislikes and preferences, his 
own kind of jealousy and tenderness, and his 
need of love or his rejection of it. It is no 
question here of a teacher impressing her own 
individuality upon a still unformed being. 
She is moving among complex miniature per- 
sonalities whom it is by no means easy to in- 

The teachers whether in Child Horts, 
schools or kindergartens are thus all placed 
in the same difficult position. Human beings 
obviously develop earlier than we generally 
imagine. In order to trace to their origins the 


childish peculiarities which give these teach- 
ers so much trouble, investigations must ex- 
tend to the period previous to the child's en- 
trance into the educational institutions. They 
must go back to those teachers who were actu- 
ally the first ones in his life, that is, to the 
period before his fifth year, and to his parents. 

Perhaps it seems to you as if our task was 
thereby simplified. Instead of observing the 
daily behavior of the older children in the 
schools or in the Horts, we shall seek to 
gather from them data concerning the im- 
pressions and remembrances of their earliest 

At first sight this does not appear a difficult 
task. In your intercourse with the children en- 
trusted to your care you have all tried to estab- 
lish frank and honest relations between your- 
selves and the pupils. This will now be very 
useful to you. The child will be prepared to 
tell you everything if you will only begin to 
question him. 

I advise all of you to make this attempt, 
but I can inform you in advance that it will 
yield no results. Children give no information 


about the past: they willingly talk about the 
events of the last few days or weeks, about 
holidays which they have spent in strange sur- 
roundings, about a former birthday or saint's 
day, perhaps even about the Christmas festivi- 
ties of last year. But then their recollections 
come to a standstill, or at any rate they lack 
the power to impart them to others. 

You will say, of course, we were too confi- 
dent in our belief in the child's capacity to 
remember his past life. We ought to have 
borne in mind that the child draws no distinc- 
tion between what is important and what un- 
important in the past. It would therefore, you 
think, be much more reasonable and more 
fruitful of results to address such an inquiry 
concerning the earliest experiences of child- 
hood, not to the child, but to the adult who is 
interested in such an investigation. 

I certainly advise you to carry out this sec- 
ond suggestion, but I know you will be aston- 
ished to find that the friend to whom you 
apply and who is only too willing to help you 
has also very little to tell you. His recollec- 
tions will apparently go back, with few gaps 


and quite intelligently, to his fifth or sixth 
year. He will describe his schooling, perhaps 
even the houses where he lived in his third, 
fourth, or fifth year, the number and names of 
his brothers and sisters, and it may be some 
such event as a removal from one house to 
another, or some misfortune that happened. 
Then his account will come to an end before 
you have got at what you sought, namely, in- 
dications as to how his development during 
those first years has resulted in his own in- 
dividuality and his special characteristics. 

But you must know that there is a reason 
for this new disappointment. The events we 
are searching for, which are called upon to 
play so important a part in the development 
of the particular individual's character, must 
obviously be the most intimate events in his 
life. They are experiences which a person 
guards as his most private property, admitted 
to himself alone and hidden as something 
shameful from his dearest friends. We have to 
reckon with this situation beforehand, and 
apply for data to the only person who is in a 
position to impart the information concern- 


ing the whole state of affairs. That is to say, 
each investigator must investigate himself. 
We have, indeed, to rely upon the capacity of 
the normal adult to remember things, upon 
his interest in the investigation and upon his 
willingness to overthrow all those barriers, 
erected by a sense of shame, which prevent the 
revelation of himself to others. But even if we 
do give all our interest and all our attention 
to the matter and are as perfectly frank as we 
can be, the results will still be very poor. We 
shall not succeed in really elucidating the 
earliest years of our life and in collecting a 
complete series of recollections of that period. 
We shall certainly be able to string together 
incidents up to a certain point of time, which 
differs greatly in different individuals. With 
many it is the fifth year, with some the fourth, 
with others the third. Before that period there 
is for each a great blank, an abyss in which 
only single incidents torn from their connec- 
tion are identified and on closer considera- 
tion appear to have no meaning and certainly 
no value. Perhaps, for example, a young man 
remembers nothing of the first four years of 


his childhood except a brief scene on a ship 
when the captain in a beautiful uniform 
stretched out his arms to lift him over a little 
parapet. Yet at that very time he had suffered 
the stormiest conflicts and the most severe 
blows of fate as was easily ascertained by 
questioning other people. Or again, a girl 
who has had an emotional childhood, full of 
vivid incidents, has retained nothing of it all 
but the clear recollection of being taken out 
in a perambulator and turning back her head 
to look at her nurse who was pushing it! 

You will grant that here we are up against 
a startlingly contradictory set of facts. On the 
one hand, we know from our observation of 
little children, and from the accounts which 
our relatives give us of our own childhood, 
that the child behaves at this stage intelli- 
gently and energetically, shows likes and dis- 
likes, and conducts himself in many important 
respects quite like a rational being. On the 
other hand, this period has vanished from his 
own recollection, or perhaps has left behind it 
only very incomplete traces. According to the 
evidence given by educators, such as teachers 


in schools and kindergartens, human beings 
after the expiration of these very early years 
step into life as completely formed little in- 
dividualities. And yet memory acts as if it 
were not worth while to preserve traces of a 
time in which each individual is capable of 
receiving quite special impressions and ab- 
sorbing them, a time when this complex de- 
velopment has unfolded itself into an in- 

The orthodox school of psychology has 
been deceived by this semblance of things. As 
the orthodox psychologists regard as material 
for their science only that part of the in- 
ner life of man which is known to the man 
himself, they must necessarily underestimate 
the significance of the first years of life, which 
remain unknown. 

It was psychoanalysis that first tackled this 
contradiction. It was psychoanalysis that suc- 
ceeded in proving that there was always at the 
root of the little daily mistakes of human be- 
ings such as forgetfulness, losing things, 
various accidents, errors in reading, etc. 
some purposive desire. Previously these oc- 


currences had been explained without much 
thought, as the results of lack o attention, of 
fatigue or mere accident. Through psycho- 
analytic investigation of these mishaps it was 
established that, generally speaking, we forget 
nothing except what we wish to forget for 
some good reason or other, a reason which 
may, however, be quite unknown to our- 
selves. Thus in the investigations into the gap 
in childhood's memory, psychoanalysis will 
not be content with the ordinary means of 
elucidation. It assumes that such a striking 
phenomenon could not have occurred with- 
out some very strong motive. It is just exactly 
this obscurity, clouding the first years of life, 
and the obstacles standing in the way of all 
efforts to get at a direct elucidation, that 
would make the psychoanalyst suspect some- 
thing of importance was hidden there. In the 
same way a burglar would conclude from a 
specially elaborate safety lock on a safe which 
was very difficult to pick that his efforts would 
be well rewarded; people scarcely take so 
much trouble to lock up something worth- 


But \ have no intention of describing to 
you at present the way in which psychoanaly- 
sis has succeeded in its object of recovering 
the memories of childhood. The description 
of the psychoanalytic method would in itself 
claim far more time than we have at our dis- 
posal. We must leave a more detailed study 
and a further examination of this method of 
working for another course. At present we are 
chiefly interested in the content of the first 
years of childhood so far as psychoanalysis has 
succeeded in putting it together. This it has 
done, I must remind you, by explanation of 
the trivial mistakes already mentioned and of 
the dreams of healthy people, as well as by 
elucidation and analysis of the symptoms of 
the neurotic. 

The psychoanalytic reconstruction of the 
childhood years extends as far back as infancy, 
when the child possesses only the inherited 
qualities which he brings with him at birth. 
The infant is thus in the state in which we er- 
roneously hoped to find him on his entrance 
into the educational institutions. There is 
little creditable to report concerning this 


stage of his life. The tiny human being whom 
we have before us is extraordinarily like a new- 
born animal in all respects, except that he 
is in a worse position than the animal. The 
animals are dependent on the care of their 
mothers for only a short period, at most a few 
weeks. They then evolve into independent 
creatures who can get along without further 
care. It is quite different with human beings. 
The child remains for at least a year so com- 
pletely dependent on its mother that it would 
perish immediately she withdrew her care. 
But even after the expiration of this year of 
infancy the child has not attained independ- 
ence. It does not know how to procure its 
food, how to support itself, how to protect it- 
self and ward off dangers of any kind. We 
know that the human being needs almost fif- 
teen years before it can completely dispense 
with the protection of the grownups and be- 
come a grown-up individual. 

This distinction between the human being 
and the animal, the child's long period of 
complete dependence, determines his entire 
destiny. As nothing stands between the child 


and destruction for the entire first year of his 
life except the tender care of his mother, we 
are not surprised if the maintenance of this 
maternal care begins to play a very important 
part in his life. The little child feels safe as 
long as he knows his mother is near at hand, 
and he shows his helplessness in a feeling of 
anguish when she has gone away from him. 
He needs his, mother for the satisfaction of his 
hunger; she becomes a necessity of life. But 
the relationship between the infant and the 
mother soon goes far beyond what is to be ex- 
plained as the striving for the preservation of 
his life. We note that the child wants his 
mother near him and longs for her when his 
hunger is satisfied and no special dangers 
threaten him. We say the child loves his 
mother. In response to her tender love and 
care a bond has been established with his 
mother which certainly still continues in line 
with the direction indicated by his instinct for 
self-preservation. But it has become quite in- 
dependent of this instinct for self-preserva- 
tion and goes far beyond it. 

Because of this tender relation to his 


mother It seems as if the little child would 
have every chance of a peaceful physical and 
mental development. He would be com- 
pletely content if his mother did nothing but 
feed him, take care of him, love him. But now 
comes the moment when the external world, 
for the first time, enters disturbingly into the 
relation between the child and his mother. 
The child who has now left his infancy and his 
first year behind him suddenly learns that his 
mother does not belong to him alone. The 
family of which he is only a small and not a 
very important part has other members 
father and brothers and sisters, of whose pres- 
ence he has only just become aware, but who 
appear just as important as he thinks himself. 
They all, indeed, assert a right to the posses- 
sion of the mother. 

It can easily be understood that the small 
child regards his brothers and sisters as his 
enemies. He is jealous of them and wishes 
them out of the way so as to restore the orig- 
inal state of affairs, which alone is satisfactory 
to him. 

You can convince yourselves of this jeal- 


ousy In little children by observing their be- 
havior, for example, at the birth of another 
child. Thus a little two-year-old girl, whose 
father proudly showed her the newly born 
brother expecting her to feel joy and admi- 
ration merely asked, "When will he die 
again?" A mother told me that when she was 
feeding her infant at the breast her three-year- 
old boy, armed with a stick or some other 
pointed object, would come quite close to her, 
and she had great difficulty in preventing him 
from doing an injury to the baby. This type of 
occurrence can be multiplied endlessly. As a 
matter of fact, one hears of serious injuries 
which children two and three years old inflict 
on their younger brothers or sisters if they are 
unwisely left alone with them. 

We have every reason to regard this jeal- 
ousy of small children as serious. It springs 
from the same motives as the jealousy of 
adults, and causes the child the same amount 
of suffering as in adult life we endure from 
the disturbance of our relation to a beloved 
one through unwelcome rivals. The only dif- 
ference is that the child is more restricted in 


his actions than the adult, and thus the satis- 
faction of his jealous feelings goes no further 
than a wish. He wishes the tiresome brothers 
and sisters to go away, he would like them to 
be dead. To the little child who has not yet 
learned to grasp the meaning of death there is, 
for the time being, no difference between go- 
ing away and being dead. 

This wish for his brothers' and sisters' 
death is thoroughly natural on the part of the 
child. The more the child values the posses- 
sion of the mother, the more violent is this 
desire. The child, moreover, is at first com- 
pletely single-minded in his hostile feelings. 
An emotional conflict arises within him only 
when he notes that his mother, who loves 
these disturbing brothers and sisters (he can- 
not understand this at all), requires him to 
give up these evil desires, share the mother 
with them and even love them. Here is the 
starting point of all the difficulties in the emo- 
tional relations between the brothers and sis- 
ters of a family. You probably know from 
your own observation of older children how 
frequently "family love" represents only the 


adult's desire that such a love should exist, 
and how different the real relationship is 
from this imaginary one. It Is, moreover, a 
striking proof of the correctness of the situa- 
tion here described that the jealousy between 
brothers and sisters is much less when the re- 
lations to the mother are not so close. In 
working-class families, where the mother is 
able to devote far less care to her children, the 
loss of tenderness at the birth of younger 
children is correspondingly less. Hence there 
is to be found among working-class children 
much more love and sympathy than in 
middle-class families. In the latter each child 
sees in the other children of the family a rival 
for a very real possession, and accordingly 
hatred and jealousy, open or hidden, domi- 
nate the relations between brothers and sis- 

But this emotional antagonism in which 
the little child is involved in relation to his 
brothers and sisters is a comparatively harm- 
less prelude to another and a much more 
powerful emotional conflict. His brothers and 
sisters are not the only rivals who compete 


with him for the possession o the mother: the 
father Is far more important. Now the father 
plays a twofold part in the little child's life. 
The boy hates him as a rival when his father 
acts the part of rightful owner of the mother, 
when he takes the mother away, goes out with 
her, treats her as his property, and insists upon 
sleeping with her by himself. But in all other 
respects the child loves and admires his father, 
relies on his help, believes in his strength and 
omnipotence and has no greater desire than 
to be like him in the future. Thus there arises 
in the boy the extraordinary problem, at first 
quite insoluble, that he loves and admires a 
person and at the same time hates him and 
wishes him dead. In the relation to his broth- 
ers and sisters it was only a question of re- 
straining his evil desires in order to please his 
mother. Here for the first time one emotion is 
in conflict with another emotion. I leave it to 
you to imagine for yourselves the further diffi- 
culties into which the little boy is plunged 
through this conflict: agony at the strength of 
his evil wishes, fear of his father's revenge and 
the loss of his love, the destruction of all ease 


and peace in his relations with his mother, his 
bad conscience and his mortal dread of death. 
I shall have more to say about this in another 

Probably you feel that it would be very in- 
teresting to pursue this path of the little 
child's emotional development, but you do 
not see how this is related to your own partic- 
ular work. The children with whom you have 
to deal are much older and have long got be- 
yond the stage of complete dependence on the 
mother, the early jealousy, and all the con- 
flicts of the first years of life that I have just 
described. But you are mistaken. What you 
discover in the Hort or in the school are just 
the resultant phenomena of this earlier pe- 
riod of life. The children whom you designate 
as quarrelsome, asocial, and never contented 
with anything, are putting their school com- 
panions in the place of their brothers and 
sisters, and there, at school, are fighting out 
with them the conflicts which they were not 
able to finish in their own homes. And the 
older ones who react so violently if you en- 
deavor to exercise the slightest show of au- 


thority, or those who are so cowed that they do 
not even venture to look you in the face or to 
raise their voices in class, are in truth the same 
little children, but they have transferred to 
you the longing for the father's death and the 
difficult suppression of such wishes, with the 
resultant anguish and surrender. You get here 
the explanation of a phenomenon which at 
first astonished you. It is a fact that the six- 
year-old children bring with them their 
ready-made reactions, and that they only re- 
peat them with you. What you see being en- 
acted before your eyes are really additions to 
and repetitions of very old conflicts but 
slightly influenced by yourself. 

I anticipate a second objection from you. 
You probably find that the family such as I 
have depicted to you does not exist at all, at 
least not in the case of most of the children 
with whom you have to deal. You very rarely 
find a mother who bestows on her children 
such loving care and tenderness and distrib- 
utes it so impartially. Nor do you often know 
of a father who lives with his wife on such 
friendly terms and is at the same time quali- 


fied to be the object of the love and admira- 
tion of his little son. The picture is as a rule 
quite different. 

But I had a quite definite object in describ- 
ing to you this model family. I wanted to put 
before you the difficult position of the child, 
with his conflicting emotions, even when his 
external environment is regarded as favor- 
able. Where external conditions are worse 
and the family life more miserable, the con- 
flict that is going on within the child is still 
more severe. 

Let us assume that the child is not brought 
up by his own mother, but during this most 
important first year of his life is put out to 
nurse, first at one place, then at another, or is 
taken care of in a home by more or less in- 
different nurses who are constantly changing. 
Ought we not to assume that the lack of this 
first natural emotional bond will have great 
influence on the whole of his later life? Or let 
us take it that the father whom the boy regards 
as his example and in whose footsteps he seeks 
to follow is a drunkard, or insane, or a crim- 
inal. Then the effort to become like the fa- 


ther, which normally is one of the greatest 
helps in education, leads in this case to the di- 
rect ruin of the child. When the parents are 
separated and each parent tries to win over 
the child to his or her side and to represent the 
other as the guilty party, then the entire emo- 
tional development of the child suffers. His 
confidence is shattered by his critical powers 
being too early awakened. I will quote to you 
here the judgment of an eight-year-old boy 
who made vain efforts to bring his parents to- 
gether again. He said: "If my father does not 
love my mother, then my mother does not 
love my father, then they can't like me. Then 
I don't want them. And then the whole family 
is no good/' The consequences which such a 
child deduces from the position of affairs are 
generally serious. He acts like an employee in 
a bankrupt firm who has lost all confidence in 
his principals and no longer therefore feels 
any pleasure in his work. Thus the child in 
such circumstances stops work that is, his 
normal development is checked and he reacts 
to the abnormal conditions in some abnormal 


Here I conclude my lecture. I have laid 
upon you the difficult task of regarding the in- 
cidents which take place in the first years of 
childhood in the way in which they can be re- 
constructed by the psychoanalytic method. I 
do not know how far the details appear to you 
worthy of belief or improbable. In any case, 
these discoveries of psychoanalysis have 
helped to direct the attention of people in 
general to the significance of the events in the 
earliest years of childhood. In conclusion, the 
case of which I am now going to give you de- 
tails will show you the practical results of such 
theoretical considerations. 

A little while ago a German court of law 
had to pronounce judgment on a divorce case. 
In the course of the lawsuit the question arose 
to which of the parents the two-year-old child 
should be assigned. The lawyer appearing for 
the husband proved that the wife, on account 
of a whole series of traits in her character, was 
not properly qualified to educate the child. 
To this the wife's lawyer objected that for a 
child who was only in his second year it was 
not a question of education at all, but only of 


just looking after the child. In order to decide 
the point at issue the opinion of experts was 
taken as to the time when a child's education 
might be said to begin. The specialists who 
were called belonged partly to the psychoana- 
lytic school, partly to the orthodox scientific 
school. But they unanimously agreed that the 
education of a child begins with his first day 
of life. 

We have every reason to assume that previ- 
ous to the discoveries of psychoanalysis the ex- 
perts would have decided otherwise. 


The Infantile Instinct-Life 

I do not feel at all sure as to how you have 
received the statements in my last lecture, but 
I venture to surmise that the impression left 
on you was a twofold one. You probably 
think, on the one hand, that I have informed 
you of facts already well known to you, with 
much unnecessary emphasis. You feel, per- 
haps, that I falsely assume we are still in the 
stage when teachers judged their pupils as 
units apart from their families. I forget, you 
would say, that today even the youngest 
teacher, when difficulties arise, thinks first of 
all of the home environment of the child, of 
the possibility of an unfavorable influence ex- 
ercised by the parents, and of the position of 
the child among his brothers and sisters that 
is to say, of the effects produced on the child 



by being the eldest or youngest child or half- 
way down the family. You always try to ex- 
plain the child's conduct at school by the way 
he is treated at home. 

You were quite aware of the fact, long be- 
fore I lectured to you, that the child's char- 
acter is greatly influenced by experiences in 
the home. On the other hand, you feel that I 
have placed before you these simple facts with 
much exaggeration. You think I have every- 
where interpreted the emotions and acts of 
little children by analogy with the correspond- 
ing manifestations of adults, and that I de- 
scribe childish behavior in language gener- 
ally used only for the behavior of adults. Thus 
I have converted the ordinary friction of the 
child with his brothers and sisters into serious 
death-wishes; and the quite innocent and ten- 
der relation of the boy to his mother into the 
love of a man who desires a woman sexually. 

To you it appears quite natural that the 
boy in the intimate daily life with his father 
gets to realize the latter's superior power, and 
submits unwillingly to the paternal command 
and the restrictions on his freedom. But as I 


see it, a conflict arises between father and son 
such as Schiller depicts in Don Carlos. You had 
already heard with astonishment the report 
that psychoanalysis went so far as to compare 
the emotional situation of the little child with 
that of King Oedipus of the Greek story who 
slew his father and possessed his mother. Thus 
I have simply proved to you by my arguments 
that the prejudice which you had always until 
now felt toward psychoanalysis was not un- 
founded, and I have merely turned this prej- 
udice into a considered opinion on the 
ground of your own experience. I will not for 
the moment support with arguments this psy- 
choanalytic viewpoint. I only ask you to sus- 
pend judgment for a little while. 

Let us once more return to the verdict 
given by the German law court, with which, 
as I have pointed out to you, psychoanalysis is 
in complete agreement. What have we to con- 
ceive as "education" from the first day of life? 
What is there, indeed, to educate in the tiny 
creature, so like an animal, of whose mental 
processes we have hitherto known so little? 
Where here can educational effort find a 


point of attack? According to the description I 
have sketched of the inner life of the child and 
his relations to the people of his environment, 
one might perhaps think the answer was sim- 
ple. The task of education in the case of the 
little child would be to check alike the evil 
wishes which are directed against his brothers 
and sisters and his father, and the longings for 
his mother, and to prevent their materializa- 

But on closer consideration this definition 
of the earliest stage of education appears un- 
satisfactory and somewhat ridiculous. The 
little child stands helpless and powerless amid 
his adult surroundings. We know he can be 
preserved from destruction only by the kind- 
ness of those around him. Every comparison of 
his strength with that of those near him can 
only be to his disadvantage. He has, therefore, 
not the slightest chance of carrying out his dan- 
gerous desires. It is true that in the juvenile 
courts and children's clinics there are cases in 
which boys have actually played the part of 
the father toward the mother as completely 
as was possible, considering their physical de- 


velopment, or in which a little girl has been 
used by her own father in the sexual relation. 
But in all such cases it has never been the 
strength and energy of the child that has ef- 
fected this abnormal accomplishment of his 
emotional wishes, but the abnormal desires of 
the adults who exploit the child's desires 
toward them for the satisfaction of their own 
lusts. In actual life it is as a rule far more im- 
portant to protect the child from the father's 
anger than the father from the child's hos- 

The question, therefore, of the definition 
of education for the first year of life is still un- 
solved, and we know little about its purport. 
Perhaps we get a new basis for the answer to 
this question if again I refer to the legal 
verdict quoted earlier we compare the two 
ideas of child care and child education. 

There is no difficulty about a definition of 
child care. The rearing of the child consists in 
the fulfillment of the child's bodily needs. 
The child's guardian satisfies its hunger, 
keeps it clean probably this latter is in re- 
sponse to the adult's desire rather than the 


child's need sees it is warm and quiet and 
protects it from the troubles and dangers of 
life. She gives the child all it needs without 
requiring anything in return. Education, on 
the contrary, always wants something from 
the child. 

It would lead me far beyond my own prov- 
ince here if I were to begin to describe to you 
the innumerable aims claimed for education 
in the past and in the present. Educators, that 
is to say those adults who form the environ* 
ment of the child, always want to make him 
what suits them, which consequently differs 
according to the century, position, rank, class, 
etc., of the adults. But all these varying aims 
have one feature in common. The universal 
aim of education is always to make out of the 
child a grown-up person who shall not be very 
different from the grown-up world around 
him. Consequently we have here the starting 
point for education. It regards as childlike be- 
havior everything in which the child differs 
from the adult. Our answer, therefore, to the 
question concerning the earliest form of educa- 
tion must be as follows: education struggles 


with the nature of the child or as the grown- 
up usually calls it with his naughtiness. 

It would be a mistake for me to spare you 
the recital of the childish naughtinesses on 
the ground that every teacher and educator 
knows them from his own observation. The 
naughtiness that the child reveals in the 
school only faintly reflects what is within him. 
A true description of these characteristics 
could only be obtained from the people who 
are continually busied with the little child 
from infancy to the fifth year. When we ques- 
tion such people we hear something like this : 
the child is frightfully inconsiderate of others 
and egotistic; he is only concerned with get- 
ting his own way and satisfying his own de- 
sires; he is quite indifferent as to whether this 
hurts others or not. He is dirty and odorifer- 
ous; he does not mind catching hold of the 
most disgusting things or even putting them 
to his mouth. He is quite shameless so far as 
his own body is concerned and very curious 
about the things that other people wish to 
conceal from him. He is greedy and will steal 
dainties. He is cruel to all living creatures that 


are weaker than himself and filled with a per- 
fect lust for destroying inanimate objects. He 
has an abundance of naughty bodily tricks, he 
sucks his fingers, he bites- his nails, he picks his 
nose and plays with his sexual organs; he does 
all these things urged by his intense desire for 
self-fulfillment, and regards the slightest hin- 
drance as intolerable. Parents in describing 
the children complain chiefly of two things. 
They have a feeling of hopelessness; scarcely 
have they broken the child of one bad habit 
than another takes its place, and they cannot 
understand where he gets such habits. Cer- 
tainly not from his parents' example, and they 
have so carefully kept their own chil|| away 
from bad children. 

You will say that this account of childish 
attributes is rather an indictment than an ob- 
jective statement. But adults, in the matter of 
children's characteristics, have never taken an 
objective attitude. Education, seen from the 
child's point of view throughout the centu- 
ries, is something like a very severe teacher who 
comes, full of indignation beforehand, to in- 
vestigate the affairs of his pupils. He will 


never succeed in obtaining the real facts of the 
case and the actual relationship of events if he 
does not wisely learn to postpone judgment 
until the end of his investigation. The 
"naughtinesses" of children, as the parents 
call them, are only a chaotic disorderly mass 
of child-characteristics. There is nothing to be 
done except to lament them! 

But up till now science also has not re- 
garded the child in a much more objective 
light. It has adopted the expedient of denying 
all those features which did not appear to fit 
into the picture which, working from quite 
other hypotheses, it had drawn of the child's 
nature. It was psychoanalysis that first freed 
itself from the judgments, the assumptions 
and the prejudices with which adults have 
from time immemorial approached this mat- 
ter of estimating the nature of children. As a 
result, many bad habits, hitherto quite inex- 
plicable, will be found to arrange themselves 
into an organic whole in a most surprising 
way. Instead of arbitrary acts they are dis- 
covered to be an inevitable sequence of events 
in accordance with the stages of development, 


such as we have long recognized in the devel- 
opment of the physical body. Psychoanalysis 
found also the answer to the parents' two 
main complaints about their children. The 
quick change from one bad habit to another 
and its formation without any external influ- 
ence: these things ceased to be puzzling prob- 
lems when the naughty habits signified no 
deplorable, haphazard abnormalities of the 
child, but the natural, normal links in a pre- 
determined chain of development. 

The first indication of such an order in the 
phenomena was the observation that the parts 
of the body with which the child plays his 
naughty tricks were not chosen arbitrarily, 
but were determined in a precise sequence. 
You will remember, perhaps, that in our first 
talk we traced the close link between the child 
and its mother to the first nourishment and 
care given to the child by the mother. The 
first naughty behavior of the child arises from 
the same cause and is connected with the same 

In the first weeks of his existence food plays 
the most important part in his life, and at this 


time his mouth and all connected with it are 
the most important parts of his body to him. 
The child finds sucking at his mother's breast 
and getting the flow of milk with his mouth 
very pleasant, and the wish for the continua- 
tion and repetition of this sensual experience 
remains with him even when he has satisfied 
his hunger. He soon learns how to procure 
this delightful feeling again, independently 
of the food obtained and the person who 
suckles him, by sucking his own finger. Then 
we say the child "sucks." His face as he does 
this has the same contented express-ion as 
when his mother is suckling him, and conse- 
quently we are never doubtful concerning the 
motive of this act of sucking. We see that the 
child sucks because he enjoys sucking. The 
pleasure gained from sucking, which was orig- 
inally only pleasure incidental to the taking 
of nourishment, has now become a pleasure in 
itself, and this activity which the child enjoys 
and the grownups object to is regarded as a 
naughty habit. At this time the pleasure- 
giving activity of the mouth is by no means 
confined to taking food and sucking. The 


child acts as If he would like to become ac- 
quainted with the whole world within his 
reach by means of his mouth. He bites, he 
licks and tastes everything near him charac- 
teristics which the grownups around him cer- 
tainly do not regard as desirable, owing to the 
difficulty of keeping the child clean, and be- 
cause of the consequent danger to his health. 
The pre-eminent part played by the mouth as 
the source of such pleasurable experience lasts 
more or less during the whole of the first year 
of life. When you recall our list of accusations 
against the child you will find there the 
naughty habits which have certainly their 
origin at this period, but which continue into 
a far later age I refer to greediness and love 
of dainties. 

But the next bodily zone which now fills 
the foreground and takes the significant place 
formerly held by the mouth is determined by 
external experiences. Up till this time the 
grown-up world has been very tolerant 
toward the child, occupying itself, indeed, al- 
most entirely in caring for him, the only ex- 
ceptions being that he has to become ac- 


customed to habits of order and regularity in 
taking his food and going to sleep. But now 
there gradually enters into the child's life a 
very important factor training in cleanli- 
ness. His mother or his nurse endeavors to 
break him of the habit of wetting and dirtying 
himself. It is not easy to teach the child to con- 
trol these functions. Indeed, one might say 
that so far as training the child is concerned 
the whole of the second year of life is given 
over to very active efforts to inculcate cleanli- 

But you feel that the child ought not to be 
blamed as naughty because a long time is re- 
quired to teach him cleanliness. His sphincter 
muscles may not yet be sufficiently developed 
to enable him to retain his urine and regulate 
his movements. That is quite right so far as the 
earliest period of training in cleanliness is 
concerned; but later it is otherwise. A closer 
observation of the child makes one suspect 
that he is no longer unable to keep himself 
clean, but that he is merely protecting his 
right to eject his excreta when it pleases him, 
and he will certainly not allow anyone to take 


from him his right to this product o his own 
body. He shows extraordinary interest in his 
own feces; he tries to touch them, to play with 
them and, indeed, if he is not prevented at the 
right moment, even to put them into his 
mouth. We can easily explain, by the expres- 
sion on his face and the ardor which he shows 
while doing it, the motive for his activity. It 
gives the child obvious delight, it is pleasur- 
able. But this pleasure has nothing now to do 
with the strength or weakness of the sphincter 
muscle of the bladder or the anus. Just as the 
infant, in taking his food from his mother's 
breast, discovered as an additional gain a pleas- 
ure in everything connected with the mouth, 
so in the same way he experiences as an inci- 
dental advantage a pleasure in his anus after 
his bowels have acted. The area round his 
anus becomes at this time the most important 
part of his body. Just as in the period of being 
suckled the child always sought to procure for 
himself the pleasure his mouth gave him, in- 
dependently of food, so he now tries by with- 
holding his feces and playing about with that 
part of his body to get the same pleasure. And 


if his training actively prevents his doing this 
he still clings, in the more legitimate games 
with sand, water and mud and later in his 
daubing about with paints, to the memory of 
the pleasure he once prized so greatly. 

Adults have always complained that at this 
period the child is dirty and has horrid habits. 
At the same time they were always inclined to 
excuse the child. He was still so little and 
stupid, his aesthetic sense was not yet suffi- 
ciently cultivated for him to understand 
rightly the difference between clean and 
dirty, or his sense of smell had not been exer- 
cised enough to distinguish between a sweet 
smell and an offensive smell. 

I am of the opinion that the observers of 
children are to some extent laboring here un- 
der an error of judgment. Whoever has care- 
fully observed a small child of somewhere 
about two years of age must have noticed that 
he distinguishes with extraordinary exacti- 
tude between the different smells. His differ- 
ence from the adults lies in his different ap- 
praisal of the various smells. The scent of any 
particular flower which delights an adult will 


leave the child quite indifferent unless the 
former has been accustomed to say, "Oh, how 
lovely!" when smelling the flower. But what 
smells horrid to us smells good to the child. 
Of course, we can, if we like, consider the 
child naughty because nasty smells give him 

We find a repetition of this relation to adult 
appraisals in other childlike peculiarities. For 
centuries the cruelty of children has been 
noted without any explanation being given 
except childish folly. When a child tears off 
the legs and wings of butterflies and flies, kills 
or tortures birds or vents his rage for destruc- 
tion on his playthings or articles in daily use, 
his elders excuse it on the ground of lack of 
capacity to feel for a different living creature, 
or his slight comprehension of the money 
value of things. But our observation teaches 
us something different. We hold that the child 
tortures animals, not because he does not un- 
derstand that it adds to their suffering, but 
just because he wants to add to their suffer- 
ings, and small, defenseless beetles are the 
least dangerous of creatures. The child de- 


stroys objects because the actual value of such 
things, compared with the joy he experiences 
in their destruction, does not come into con- 
sideration at all. But we can guess at the mo- 
tive of his act, just as we did when he sucked 
his thumb and played with dirty things, from 
the expression of his face and the wild joy 
with which he pursues his purpose. Here 
again he acts thus because it gives him pleas- 

After the training in cleanliness has com- 
pletely attained its end, and the child, in spite 
of his opposition, has been taught how to con- 
trol his movements, the part round his anus 
loses its importance as a means of acquiring 
pleasurable sensations. Instead, another part 
of his body emerges as still more important. 
The child begins to play with his genitals. At 
this time his thirst for knowledge is directed 
toward the discovery of the differences be- 
tween his own body and those of his brothers 
and sisters and playfellows. He delights in 
showing his sexual parts naked to other chil- 
dren, and in return demands to see theirs. 
His passion for asking questions, of which his 


elders complain, has as its basis these prob- 
lems the difference between the sexes and its 
connection with the origin of children, which 
he somehow or other dimly feels. But the cul- 
minating point of the development which the 
child reaches just at this time in many direc- 
tions, that is, in his fourth or fifth year, seems 
to the adults who are training him the culmi- 
nating point in his undesirable habits. 

We know that the child acts throughout 
the whole period of development above de- 
scribed as if there were nothing more impor- 
tant than the gratifying of his own pleasures 
and the fulfilling of his powerful instincts, 
whereas education proceeds as if the preven- 
tion of these objects was its most important 
task. In consequence there arises a kind of 
"guerilla war" between educator and child. 
Education wants to substitute for love of dirt 
a disgust of dirt, for shamelessness a feeling of 
shame, for cruelty sympathy, and in place of a 
rage for destructiveness a desire to cherish 
things. Curiosity and the desire to handle 
one's own body must be eliminated by pro- 
hibitions, lack of consideration for others 


must be replaced by consideration, egotism by 
altruism. Step by step education aims at the 
exact opposite of the child's instinctive de- 

As we have seen, to the child the attainment 
of pleasure is the main object of life. The 
adult wants to teach him to regard the claims 
of the external world as more important than 
these instinctive urges. The child is impa- 
tient, he cannot endure any delay and acts 
only for the moment; the grown-up person 
teaches him to postpone the gratification of 
his impulses and to take heed of the future. 

It will have struck you that my description 
has not made any essential distinction be- 
tween the pleasure gained by sucking and by 
playing with the genitals, that is, masturba- 
tion. As a matter of fact, from the standpoint 
of psychoanalysis no such distinction exists. 
All the pleasurable acts which have been de- 
scribed here are efforts toward the satisfac- 
tion of instinctive impulses. Psychoanalysis 
invests them all with sexual significance, 
whether they are concerned with the actual 
sexual organs, or the mouth, or the anus. The 


role which the genitals play in the fourth or 
fifth year of the child's life is exactly that of 
the mouth in the first year or the anus in the 
second year. The genital zone appears to us 
only in retrospect as so significant when we re- 
gard it from the standpoint of adult sexual 
life, in which the genitals are the specific or- 
gans of that sexual life. But, even so, the geni- 
tal zones in early childhood do possess a cer- 
tain significance. The sensual pleasure de- 
rived from them serves as a preparation for 
and an introduction to the sexual act proper. 
The fact that the bodily regions from which 
the little child gains his first sensual pleasures 
play a part, though a subordinate one, in the 
sexual life of the adult, does not seem to you 
perhaps a sufficient reason for designating 
these regions of the child's pleasure-seeking 
activity as sexual in the same sense as the di- 
rect genital activity. But psychoanalysis justi- 
fies this classification on account of still an- 
other circumstance. There are abnormal cases 
in which one or other of these infantile im- 
pulses retains its primacy, refusing to transfer 
itself to the specific genital zone, and main- 


tains this primacy in adult life. It disputes the 
part played by the genital regions and regards 
the attainment of sexual pleasure as bound up 
with itself alone. Such beings are designated 
as perverts. It is characteristic of them that in 
a very important aspect of their life, namely, 
in their sexuality, they remain at the stage of 
the little child, or possibly, at some time or 
another, have returned to that stage. 

Now the understanding of this abnormality 
in adult sexual life makes it possible for us, 
perhaps for the first time, to understand why 
education is so very zealous in restraining the 
child from the gratification of his impulses. 
The phases of development which the child 
has to go through are simply stages on the way 
to a quite definitely prescribed goal. When 
one of these stopping-places appears too at- 
tractive there is the danger that the child be- 
gins to settle down there permanently and re- 
fuses to continue the journey or to advance to 
a further stage of development. Long before 
there was any scientific proof of this concep- 
tion educators in all ages acted as if they recog- 
nized these dangers. Consequently, they re- 


garded it as their task to get the child through 
his phases of development without his ever at- 
taining any real satisfaction and pleasure 
from any one stage except the last. 

The means which from time immemorial 
education has adopted in its struggle to pre- 
vent the child from obtaining this dreaded 
sensual gratification are of two kinds. It may 
be the child is warned: If you suck your 
thumb any more it will be cut off, a threat 
which nurses and picture books (take, for ex- 
ample, Slovenly Peter) are accustomed to re- 
peat on all occasions and with every kind of 
variation. They try to frighten the child by 
the idea of actual violence and injury to a nec- 
essary and much-prized part of his body, and 
to make him renounce this kind of pleasure. 
Or it may be people say: If you do that I can- 
not love you any more! Here he is brought 
face to face with the possibility of the loss of 
his parents* love. Both threats operate, owing 
to the situation of the child as we have already 
learned to understand it in the last lecture 
that is, his complete helplessness and power- 
lessness in the midst of an overwhelming 


adult world, and his exclusive dependence 
upon his parents' love. 

Both methods are usually equally effective. 
Under the pressure of such appalling dangers 
the child, indeed, learns to abandon his primi- 
tive designs. At first when he discontinues 
these practices he merely pretends, from fear 
of grownups or from love of them, that he has 
changed his attitude. He begins to designate 
as horrid what seems to him lovely, and as 
delightful and pleasurable what is displeasing 
to him. As he assimilates more and more the 
adults' standpoint he accepts their values 
as the true ones. He now begins to forget that 
he has ever felt otherwise, and gradually de- 
nies all that he had desired in his earlier days 
and prevents a return to his earlier enjoyment 
by an absolute reversal of the feelings con- 
nected with the former sensual satisfaction. 
The more complete this transference, the 
more contented are the grownups with their 
educational efforts. 

This renunciation of the pleasure derived 
from his infantile impulses which is forced 
upon the child has two important effects on 


his mental development. He now pitilessly ap- 
plies this standard which has been forced 
upon himself to the rest of the world. He be- 
comes throughout his life intolerant toward 
those who have not achieved the same devel- 
opment as himself and still allow themselves 
the sensual gratification from one or other of 
these earlier sources. The moral indignation 
which is aroused by such acts is the measure of 
the effort he himself has had to make to con- 
quer his instinctive impulses. 

Coincident with the rejection by his mem- 
ory of the pleasurable experiences once so 
dearly prized, he also pushes from his recol- 
lection that whole period of his life, with all 
the feelings and experiences which belong to 
it. He forgets his past, which now in retro- 
spect can appear to him only as unworthy and 
repulsive. But it is just because of this that he 
has that gap in his memory, that impenetrable 
barrier and that inaccessibility with regard to 
the first most important experiences of child- 
hood which so greatly astonished us at the last 


The Latency Period 

I have now during two lectures kept you 
far removed from the sphere of your own par- 
ticular interests. I have engaged your atten- 
tion for the emotional condition and the de- 
velopment of the instincts of the tiny child 
a subject, indeed, which you most likely think 
could only have practical significance for 
mothers, nurses and, at the most, for the kin- 
dergarten teachers. I should not like you to 
think, on account of my choice of material, 
that I underestimate the problems which arise 
in your work with older children. But my 
object was to bring before you in the course of 
these lectures many of the fundamental ideas 
of psychoanalysis, and, in order to develop 
them vividly for you, I required some very 
definite material which only the first years of 

childhood can supply. 
6 4 


Let us examine what you have already 
learned from the things you have now heard 
concerning the theory of psychoanalysis, in 
order that I may ultimately justify the round- 
about ways into which I have led you. From 
the very beginning I asserted that human be- 
ings are acquainted with only a fragment of 
their own inner life, and know nothing about 
a great many of the feelings and thoughts 
which go on within them that is to say, that 
all these things happen unconsciously, with- 
out their awareness. You might reply that 
therefore we ought to be modest. In the vast 
mass of stimuli pressing upon man from 
within and without, which he receives and 
elaborates, it is not at all possible to retain 
everything in consciousness; it should suffice 
if one knows the most important things. But 
the example of the big gap in memory in 
which the childhood years are hidden must 
shake this conception. We have seen that the 
importance of any event is by no means a 
guarantee of its permanence in our memory; 
indeed, on the contrary, it is just the most sig- 
nificant impressions that regularly escape 


recollection. At the same time experience 
shows that this forgotten part of the inner 
world has the curious characteristic of retain- 
ing its dynamic force when it disappears from 
memory. It exercises a decisive influence on 
the child's life, shapes his relations to the peo- 
ple around him and reveals itself in his daily 
conduct. This twofold characteristic of the ex- 
periences of childhood, so contrary to all your 
expectations, its disappearance into the void 
while retaining all its power to influence, has 
given you a good idea of the conception of the 
unconscious in psychoanalysis. 

You have, in addition, learned how the for- 
getting of important impressions may arise. 
The child would probably be inclined to re- 
member clearly his first very highly valued de- 
sires and the satisfaction of the impulses so 
dearly treasured. He responds to an external 
pressure when he turns away from them, 
pushes them aside with a great expenditure 
of energy and refuses to know anything more 
about them. We say, then, that he has re- 
pressed them. 

You have further realized that education 


has not yet accepted the fact of the child's ac- 
complishment of this act of repression. It ob- 
viously fears that the characteristics pushed 
on one side with so much difficulty might at a 
favorable opportunity emerge again from the 
depths. It is, therefore, not content to break 
the child of a habit which it regards as bad, 
but it strives to put every obstacle in the way 
of its re-emergence. Thus there arises the re- 
versal of the original feelings and characteris- 
tics in the manner I have already described to 

Let us assume that a little child of about 
two years has the desire to put his excreta 
in his mouth. He learns through the pressure 
of education not only to reject such an action 
which he now knows as dirty and to renounce 
his original desire, but also to feel disgust for 
it. He gets now a feeling of nausea in connec- 
tion with his excrement and a desire to vomit, 
obviously the answer to the original wish to 
put something into his mouth. To use his 
mouth for such an action becomes quite im- 
possible for him owing to this feeling of re- 
pulsion. Psychoanalysis calls such a later ac- 


quired attribute, which has arisen from a con- 
flict and as a reaction against an infantile im- 
pulse, a reaction-formation. When later on we 
discover in a child an unusually strong sense 
of sympathy, an unusual modesty or a feeling 
of nausea which is easily aroused, we may con- 
clude that in his earliest years he had been 
specially cruel, shameless, or dirty in his hab- 
its. It is essential that this reaction should be 
strong in order to prevent a relapse into his 
earlier habits. 

But this reversal to the exact opposite in the 
shape of a reaction-formation is only one of 
the ways in which the child can discard an at- 
tribute. Another way is to transform an un- 
desirable activity into a more desirable one. 
I have already given you an example of this 
kind. The little child who has enjoyed play- 
ing about with his own excreta need not com- 
pletely forego this pleasure in order to escape 
blame from his teacher. He can seek a substi- 
tute for this pleasure, finding, for example, in 
games with sand and water a substitute for his 
preoccupation with urine and feces, and, ac- 
cording to the opportunities given him, he 


builds things in a sand heap or digs in the 
garden or makes canals, just as little girls learn 
to wash their dolls' clothes. 

The pleasure in smearing things is, as we 
have already indicated, continued in the use 
of paints and colored chalks. In each of these 
social and often useful activities, thoroughly 
approved by adults, the child enjoys some por- 
tion of the pleasure originally experienced. 
To this refinement of an impulse, and its di- 
version to an aim estimated by education as of 
higher value, psychoanalysis has given the 
name of sublimation. 

You have, however, been able to gather 
from the two previous lectures something 
more than merely the definition of some of 
the fundamental ideas of psychoanalysis. You 
have learned that there are ideas and idea- 
complexes which, through their becoming 
definitely associated together, play a domi- 
nant role in the emotional life of the child. 
They dominate certain years of life, then they 
are repressed and are no longer to be discov- 
ered in the consciousness of the adult without 
further investigation. The relation of the 


little child to his parents is an example of such 
an association of ideas. Psychoanalysis, as you 
have already heard, discovers behind this re- 
lationship the same motives and desires which 
inspired the deeds of King Oedipus, and has 
given the name of the Oedipus complex to it. 
Another such complex of ideas is to be seen in 
the effect of the threats which education em- 
ploys to make the child submit to its wishes. 
As the purport of these threats even if they 
are only hinted at is to cut off an important 
part of the child's body his hand, or tongue, 
or his penis psychoanalysis has named this 
complex the castration complex. 

Furthermore, in my first talk, you became 
acquainted with the fact that the way in which 
the child experiences these earliest com- 
plexes, especially his relations to his parents, 
becomes the pattern for all his later experi- 
ences. There is in him a compulsion to repeat 
in later life the pattern of his earlier love and 
hate, rebellion and submission, disloyalty and 
loyalty. It is not a matter of indifference for 
the child's later life that he has an inward urge 
to choose his love-relations, his friends and 


even his professional career so that he obtains 
almost a repetition of his repressed child- 
hood's experiences. We say, as you saw in the 
example of the relation of the school child to 
his teachers, that the child transfers his emo- 
tional attitude toward an earlier figure on to 
a person in the present. It is obvious that the 
child must very often reinterpret or misun- 
derstand the real, actual situation, and has to 
distort it in all sorts of ways in order to make 
such an emotional transference at all possible. 
Finally, you found in my description of the 
childish instinctual development a confirma- 
tion of the assertion so often heard that psy- 
choanalysis extends the conception of the sex- 
ual beyond the hitherto customary limits. It 
designates as sexual a series of childish activi- 
ties which had formerly been regarded as com- 
pletely harmless and far removed from any- 
thing sexual. Psychoanalysis, in opposition to 
all the teaching you have ever known, asserts 
that the sexual instincts of man do not sud- 
denly awaken between the thirteenth and fif- 
teenth year, i.e. at puberty, but operate from 
the outset of the child's development, change 


gradually from one form to another, progress 
from one stage to another, until at last adult 
sexual life is achieved as the final result of this 
long series of developments. The energy with 
which the sexual instincts function in all these 
phases is in its nature always the same, and 
only different in degree at different periods. 

Psychoanalysis calls this sexual energy li- 
bido. The theory of the development of the 
childish impulses is the most important part 
of the new psychoanalytic science, and at the 
same time it is this theory that from the outset 
has made enemies for psychoanalysis. Very 
likely this has been the reason why so many of 
you have hitherto held yourselves scrupu- 
lously aloof from analytic theories. 

I think you may be content with this sum- 
mary of the theoretical knowledge which you 
have hitherto possessed of psychoanalysis. 
You have become acquainted with a number 
of the most important fundamental ideas of 
psychoanalysis and with its customary termi- 
nology. You have met with the idea of the 
unconscious, repression, reaction-formation, 
sublimation, transference, the Oedipus com- 


plex and the castration complex, the libido 
and the theory o infantile sexuality. Perhaps 
these conceptions, but recently worked out, 
will help us very much in our further task, 
that of investigating the next period in the 
child's life. 

We will now continue the account of the 
child from the point where we left off in our 
last discussion. This was at his fifth or sixth 
year, at that period when the child is en- 
trusted to the public educational institutions 
and consequently claims all your interest. 

Let us, in the light of the knowledge we have 
now acquired, examine the complaint made 
by teachers in the kindergarten and the school 
that the little children come to them as al- 
ready finished human beings. We can now 
fully confirm the teachers in the accuracy of 
this impression, from our own knowledge of 
the inner situation of the child. The little 
child, by the time he comes to the school or 
kindergarten for the first time, has already 
had a host of profound emotional experi- 
ences. He has suffered a curtailment of his 
original egoism through love of a particular 


person; he has experienced a violent desire 
for the possession of this beloved person; and 
he has defended his rights by death-wishes di- 
rected against others and by outbreaks of 
jealousy. In his relation to his father he has 
become acquainted with feelings of respect 
and admiration, tormenting feelings of com- 
petition with a stronger rival, the feeling of 
impotence and the depressing effecr of a dis- 
appointment in love. He has, moreover, al- 
ready passed through a complicated instinct- 
development and has learned how hard it is 
to be obliged to confront conflicting forces in 
his own personality. 

Under the pressure of education he has suf- 
fered terrible fears and anxiety, and accom- 
plished enormous changes within himself. 
Burdened with this past, the child is indeed 
anything but a blank sheet. The transforma- 
tion which has taken place within him is ver- 
ily amazing. Out of the creature so like an ani- 
mal, so dependent on others, and to those 
around him almost intolerable, a more or less 
reasonable human being has been evolved. 
The school child who enters the classroom is 


consequently prepared to find that he is there 
only one among many, and from this time on- 
ward he cannot count on any privileged posi- 
tion. He has learned something of social 
adaptation. Instead of continually seeking to 
gratify his desires, as formerly, he is now pre- 
pared to do what is required of him and to 
confine his pleasures to the times allowed for 
them. His interest in seeing everything and 
finding out the intimate mysteries of his en- 
vironment has now been transformed into a 
thirst for knowledge and a love of learning. 
In place of the revelations and explanations 
which he longed for earlier he is now prepared 
to obtain a knowledge of letters and num- 

Those of you who are workers at the Infant 
Horts will probably think that I am describ- 
ing the good behavior of the child in too glow- 
ing colors, just as in my last talk with you I 
painted his naughtiness too black You feel 
you have not met such good children. But you 
must not forget that the Children's Horts, as 
they are conducted today, only receive cases 
in which the earliest education of the chil- 


dren, owing to some internal or external cir- 
cumstances, has not been entirely satisfactory. 
On the other hand, the teachers in the ordi- 
nary schools will recognize many of their pu- 
pils in my description and will not accuse me 
of exaggeration. 

This might be, indeed, a splendid proof of 
the practical possibilities and the enormous 
influence of education. The parents to whom, 
speaking generally, must be ascribed the 
credit for the earliest education, have every 
right to be somewhat proud if they have suc- 
ceeded in making out of the crying, trouble- 
some, and dirty infant a well-behaved school 
child. There are not many spheres in this 
world where similar transformations are ac- 

But we should still more unreservedly ad- 
mire the work which the parents have per- 
formed if two considerations were not forced 
upon us in judging its results. One of these 
considerations arises from observation. Who- 
ever has had the opportunity of being much 
with three-to-four-year-old children, or of 
playing with them, is amazed at the wealth of 


their fantasy, the extent of their vision, the 
lucidity of their minds and the inflexible logic 
of their questions and conclusions. Yet the 
very same children, when of school age, ap- 
pear to the adult in close contact with them 
rather silly, superficial, and somewhat unin- 
teresting. We ask with astonishment whatever 
has become of the child's shrewdness and orig- 
inality! Psychoanalysis reveals to us that these 
gifts of the little child have not been able to 
hold their own against the demands which 
have been made upon him; after the expi- 
ration of his fifth year they are as good as 
vanished. Obviously, to bring up "good" chil- 
dren is not without its dangers. The repres- 
sions which are required to achieve this result, 
the reaction-formations and the sublimations 
which have to be built up, are paid for at a 
quite definite cost. The originality of the 
child, together with a great deal of his energy 
and his talents, are sacrificed to being "good/* 
If the older children, compared with the little 
child, strike us as dull and inactive the im- 
pression is absolutely correct. The limitations 
which are placed upon their thinking, and the 


obstacles put in the way of their original ac- 
tivities, result in dullness and incapacity to 

But if in this connection parents have little 
cause to be very proud of their success, in an- 
other direction likewise it is somewhat doubt- 
ful if they deserve much credit. That is to say, 
we have no guarantee at all whether the good 
behavior of the older child is the product of 
education or simply the consequence of hav- 
ing reached a certain period of development. 
We have still no essential data whereby to de- 
cide what would happen if little children 
were allowed to develop by themselves. We do 
not know whether they would grow up like 
little savages or whether, without any ex- 
ternal help, they would pass through a series 
of modifications. It is quite certain that educa- 
tion influences the child tremendously in 
various directions, but the question remains 
unanswered as to what would happen if the 
adults round a child refrained from interfer- 
ing with him in any way. 

An important experiment to elucidate this 
problem was made from the psychoanalytic 


standpoint, but unfortunately it was not com- 
pleted. The Russian analyst, Mme. Vera 
Schmidt, founded in Moscow in 1921 a chil- 
dren's home for thirty children from one to 
five years old. The name, the Children's 
Home Laboratory, which she gave to it char- 
acterized this institute as a kind of scientific 
experimental station. Mme. Schmidt's object 
was to surround this little group of children 
with scientifically trained teachers employed 
to observe quietly the various emotional and 
instinctual manifestations of the children; 
and, though the teachers would help and 
stimulate, they were to interfere as little as 
possible with the changes that were taking 
place in the children. By such means it would 
gradually be established whether the various 
phases which follow one another in the child's 
first years arise spontaneously and then disap- 
pear without any direct educational influence, 
and also whether the child, without being 
forced, would abandon his pleasure-activities 
and the sources of pleasure after a certain 
period and exchange them for new ones. 
Mme. Vera Schmidt's Children's Home 


Laboratory, on account of external difficul- 
ties, was not long enough established to com- 
plete this new kind of educational experi- 
ment, except in the case of one child. The 
question, therefore, of how much credit for 
the changes in the child is to be ascribed ex- 
clusively to the earliest education remains un- 
solved until it becomes possible to undertake 
again a similar experiment under more fa- 
vorable circumstances. 

But whether this phenomenon is to be as- 
cribed to the- training of the parents or simply 
to be regarded as the necessary characteristic 
of that particular stage of life, observation in 
any case teaches us that in the fifth or sixth 
year the overwhelming force of the infantile 
instinct slowly dies down. The culminating 
point in the child's violent emotional mani- 
festations and insistent instinctual desires has 
already been passed by his fourth or fifth year, 
and the child gradually arrives at a kind of 
peace. It appears as if he had taken a great leap 
to become completely grown-up, just as the 
animal develops from birth to maturity with- 
out a break, and thereby cuts off all possibility 


of change. But with the child the case is other- 
wise. In his fifth or sixth year he suddenly 
comes to a standstill in his instinctual devel- 
opment without, however, having brought it 
to any definite conclusion. He loses the inter- 
est in the gratification of his instincts which so 
surprised us at first in the little child. He now 
for the first time begins to be like the picture 
of the "good" child which until now has only 
existed in the wish-fantasy of the grownups. 

But the instincts which had hitherto caused 
the child to seek satisfaction in all kinds of 
ways have not ceased to exist; they are only 
less noticeable outwardly. They are latent, 
dormant, and only to awaken again after a 
period of years with renewed vigor. Adoles- 
cence, which has so long been regarded as the 
period when sexual feeling has its beginning, 
is thus merely a second edition of a develop- 
ment now indeed completed, but which be- 
gan at birth and came to a standstill at the end 
of the first period of childhood. If we follow 
the growth of a child from this first period of 
childhood, through this quiet time the 
latency period as it is named in psychoanalysis 


to the stage of puberty, we shall find that 
the child once more experiences, in a new edi- 
tion, all the old difficulties which had lain 
dormant. The emotional situation which had 
caused him special conflicts as a little child, 
such as the rivalry with his father or the pecul- 
iarly difficult repression of a forbidden pleas- 
ure (the love of dirt, perhaps), will burst forth 
again, creating extraordinary difficulty. Thus 
the earliest period of the child's life often 
shows, even in the minutest details, far-reach- 
ing similarities with the period of adolescence. 
And yet in the calmer latency period the child 
resembles in many respects a sensible, sedate 

Here again, from time immemorial, educa- 
tion has acted as if it had been guided by a 
good psychological understanding of the 
child's inner situation. It utilizes the latency 
period, in which the child is no longer ex- 
clusively engrossed with his inner conflicts 
and is less disturbed by his instincts, to begin 
ihe training of his intellect. Teachers in the 
schools have from the beginning of time be- 


haved as if they understood that the child at 
this period is the more capable of learning the 
less subject he is to his instincts, and conse- 
quently they have punished most severely and 
pursued pitilessly the child at school who 
makes manifest his instinctual desires or seeks 

Here the tasks of the school and the Hort 
diverge. The object of the school is above all 
else instruction that is to say, the develop- 
ment of the mind, the imparting of new ideas 
and of knowledge and the arousing of mental 
capacity. The training in the Children's Hort, 
on the contrary, has the task of supplement- 
ing that training of the impulses which has 
probably not been completed in the child's 
infancy. The educators there know they have 
only a limited time at their disposal; they 
know that the sexual instinct, which bursts 
forth anew in puberty and overwhelms the 
child with its force, marks also the end of his 
educability. The success or failure of this later 
education in many cases determines whether 
it is possible at this later period to establish 


from the outside a reasonable agreement be- 
tween the child's ego, the urge of his impulses, 
and the demands of society. 

You will want to know finally how the pos- 
sibilities of education in infancy and in the 
latency period stand in relation to one an- 
other. Is there a difference between the atti- 
tude of the little child to his parents and that 
of the older child to his teachers and tutors? 
Does the teacher simply inherit the role of the 
parents, and must he play the part of the fa- 
ther and mother, and, as they do, work with 
threats of castration, fear of the loss of love 
and manifestations of tenderness? When we 
think of the difficulties which the child has to 
endure at the height of his Oedipus complex 
we are right to be alarmed at the idea of simi- 
lar conflicts, many times multiplied, to be 
suffered in the intercourse between the class 
and its teacher. It is not possible to imagine a 
teacher playing the part of a mother success- 
fully in a large Children's Hort, and doing 
justice to the claims of each individual child 
without arousing outbreaks of jealousy on all 
sides. It must be equally difficult for the 


teacher, as father of so many, to remain con- 
tinually the object of fear, the goal of all these 
insurgent tendencies, and yet at the same time 
the personal friend of each. 

But we forget that the child's emotional sit- 
uation also has in the meantime altered; his 
relations to his parents no longer assume the 
old form. As the childish instincts begin to 
weaken at this stage of life, the passionate feel- 
ings which have hitherto dominated the rela- 
tion of the child to his father and mother also 
weaken. Here again we cannot say if this 
change simply corresponds to a new phase of 
development upon which the child enters at 
this age, or whether the child's passionate 
love-demands gradually succumb to the many 
unavoidable disillusionments and privations 
caused by the parents. In any case, the relation 
between the child and his parents becomes 
calmer, less passionate, and loses its exclusive- 
ness. The child begins to see his parents in a 
more reasonable light, to correct his over- 
estimate of his father, whom up to now he 
has regarded as omnipotent, and to see things 
in their true perspective. The love of his 


mother, which in his earliest childhood is al- 
most adult love, passionately desirous and in- 
satiable, now gives place to a tenderness which 
makes fewer claims and is more critical. At 
the same time the child tries to get a certain 
amount of freedom from his parents, and 
seeks independently of them new objects for 
his love and admiration. A process of detach- 
ment now begins which continues through- 
out the whole of the latency period. It is a sign 
of satisfactory development if, on the termina- 
tion of puberty, the dependence on the be- 
loved beings of childhood's days has come to 
an end. The sexual instinct at this period, 
after having come successfully through all the 
intervening phases, now reaches the adult 
genital stage, and should be combined with 
the love of another who does not belong to his 
own family. 

But this detachment of the child from the 
earliest and most important of his love ob- 
jects only succeeds on one very definite con- 
dition. It is as if the parents said: You can cer- 
tainly go away, but you must take us with you. 
That is to say, the influence of the parents 


does not end with removal from them and not 
even with the abatement of feeling for them. 
Their influence simply changes from a direct 
to an indirect one. We know that the little 
child obeys his father's or mother's orders 
only when he is in their immediate environ- 
ment and has to fear a direct reprimand from 
them or their personal interference. Left 
alone, he follows without scruple his own 
wishes. But after his second or third year his 
behavior alters. He is now well aware, even 
when the person in authority has left the 
room, of what is permitted and what forbid- 
den, and can regulate his actions accordingly. 
We say that besides the forces that influence 
him from without he has also developed an 
inner force which determines his behavior. 

Among psychoanalysts there exists no 
doubt as to the origin of this inner voice, or 
conscience, as it is generally designated. It is 
the continuation of the voice of the parents 
which is now operative from within instead 
of, as formerly, from without. The child has 
absorbed, as it were, a part of his father or 
mother, or rather the orders and prohibitions 


which he has constantly received from them, 
and made these an essential part of his being. 
In the course of growth this intensified pa- 
rental part of him assumes ever more and more 
the role of the parents in the material world, 
demanding and forbidding certain things. It 
now continues from within the education of 
the child who has already become independ- 
ent of his actual parents. The child gives to 
this part of his being which has come orig- 
inally from without a very special place of 
honor in his own ego, regards it as an ideal, 
and is prepared to submit to it, often indeed 
more slavishly, than in his younger days he 
had submitted to his actual parents. 

The poor ego of the child must henceforth 
strive to fulfill the demands of this ideal the 
superego, as psychoanalysis names it. When 
the child does not obey it, he begins to "feel" 
his dissatisfaction as "inner dissatisfaction/' 
and the sense of satisfaction when he acts in 
accordance with the will of this superego as 
"inner satisfaction." Thus the old relation be- 
tween the child and the parents continues 


within the child, and the severity or mildness 
with which the parents have treated the child 
is reflected in the attitude of the superego to 
the ego. 

Here, looking backward, we can say: The 
price which the child has to pay for detaching 
himself from his parents is their incorpora- 
tion in his own personality. The success of 
this incorporation is at the same time also the 
measure of the permanent success of educa- 

Our question concerning the differences 
between the possibility of education in the 
earliest period of childhood and in the latency 
period is now no longer difficult to answer. 

The earliest educators and the little child 
are opposed to each other like two hostile fac- 
tions. The parents want something that the 
child does not want; the child wants what the 
parents do not want. The child pursues his 
aims with a wholly undivided passion; noth- 
ing remains to the parents but threats and the 
employment of force. Here one point of view 
is diametrically opposed to the other. The fact 


that the victory is nearly always won by the 
parents is only to be ascribed to their superior 
physical strength. 

The situation is quite otherwise in the 
latency period. The child that now confronts 
the educator is no longer an undivided simple 
being. He is, as we have learned, divided 
within himself. Even if his ego occasionally 
still pursues its earlier aims, his superego, the 
successor to his parents, is on the side of the 
educators. It is now that the wisdom of the 
adults determines the extent of educational 
possibilities. The educator acts mistakenly 
when he treats the child as if the latter were 
still his absolute enemy, and by so doing he 
deprives himself of a great advantage. He 
merely requires to recognize the cleavage that 
has arisen in the child and to adapt himself to 
it. If he succeeds in winning the superego to 
his side and allying with it then two are work- 
ing against one. He will have no more trouble 
in influencing the child in any way he wishes. 

Our question regarding the relations be- 
tween the teacher and the class or group is 
now also easier to answer. We see from what 


has already been said that the teacher inherits 
more than merely the child's Oedipus com- 
plex. As long as the teacher has the guidance 
of a group of children under his control he as- 
sumes for each one of them the role of his 
superego, and in this way acquires the right 
to the child's submission. If he were just the 
father of each child, then all the unsolved con- 
flicts of early childhood would take place 
around him, and moreover his group would 
be torn asunder by jealousies. If he does suc- 
ceed in becoming the universal superego, the 
ideal of all, then compulsory submission 
changes into voluntary submission, and the 
children of his group are combined under 
him into one united whole. 


The Relation Between 
Psychoanalysis and Pedagogy 

We must not demand too much from one 
another. You must not expect that in four 
short lectures I shall succeed in presenting to 
you more than the most important principles 
of a science the study of which would require 
many years. I, on the other hand, cannot ex- 
pect you to remember all the details which I 
have put before you. Out of my summary, 
condensed from a great abundance of data 
and thereby probably often confusing, per- 
haps you will be able to retain for your guid- 
ance only three of the characteristic view- 
points of psychoanalysis. 

The first of these ideas is concerned with 
the division of time. Psychoanalysis distin- 
guishes, as you have already learned, three dif- 


ferent periods In the life of the child: early 
childhood up to about the end of the fifth 
year; the latency period to the beginning of 
the prepuberty stage, about the eleventh, 
twelfth, or thirteenth year; and puberty, which 
leads into adult life. In each period there is a 
different emotional reaction of the child to 
those around him, and a different stage of in- 
stinctual development, each of which is 
normal and characteristic. A special attribute 
of the child, or his method of reaction, cannot 
therefore be judged without reference to the 
specific period of his life. An act of instinctive 
cruelty or shamelessness, for example, which 
belongs to the early period and to puberty, 
will cause anxiety to the observer if it occurs 
in the latency period, and if found in adult 
life will have, perhaps, to be judged as a per- 
versity. The strong link with the parents, 
which is natural and desirable in the first pe- 
riod and in the latency period, is a sign of re- 
tarded development if it still exists at the end 
of puberty. The strong urge to rebel and to 
have inner freedom which in puberty facili- 
tates the emergence into normal adult life 


may be regarded as an obstacle to the right 
development of the ego in earliest childhood 
or in the latency period. 

The second aspect is connected with the in- 
ner growth of the childish personality. You 
have probably up till now pictured to your- 
self the child with whom you have to deal as a 
homogeneous being, and consequently have 
not been able to explain the difference be- 
tween what he wants to do and what he is able 
to do, the clash between his intentions and his 
actions. The psychoanalytic conception shows 
you the personality of the child as of a three- 
fold nature, consisting of the instinctual life, 
the ego, and the superego, which is derived 
from the relationship with his parents. The 
contradictions in his behavior are to be ex- 
plained, therefore, when you learn to recog- 
nize behind his different reactions that part 
of his being which at this particular moment 

The third principle is concerned with the 
interaction between these divisions of the 
childish personality; we must not imagine 
this to be a peaceful process, but rather a con- 


flict. The issue of such a duel, for example, be- 
tween the ego of the child and an instinctive 
wish he knows to be undesirable, depends 
upon the relative strength of the libido at the 
disposal of the instinctive impulses compared 
with the energy of the repressing force de- 
rived from the superego. 

But I fear, indeed, that these three princi- 
ples for practical application which I have put 
briefly before you do not give you all that you 
hoped to get from psychoanalysis in the way 
of help for your work. Probably you seek prac- 
tical advice which will be a guidance to you 
rather than an extension of your theoretical 
knowledge. You want to know for certain 
which methods of education are the most to be 
recommended; which must be absolutely 
avoided if you do not want to imperil the 
child's whole development. Above all, you 
want to know whether we shall continue with 
more education, or give less than we have in 
the past. 

In answer to the last question it should be 
said that psychoanalysis, whenever it has come 
into contact with pedagogy, has always ex- 


pressed the wish to limit education. Psycho- 
analysis has brought before us the quite 
definite danger arising from education. You 
have learned how the child is forced to fulfill 
the demands of the adult world around him. 
You know that he conquers his first great emo- 
tional attachments by identification with the 
beloved and feared adults. He escapes from 
their external influence, but meanwhile es- 
tablishes a court of judgment within, mod- 
eled on the authority of those beings, which 
continues to maintain this influence within 
him. This incorporation of the parent-figures 
is the dangerous step. When this takes place 
the prohibitions and demands become fixed 
and unchangeable. In place of living beings 
they become an historical background which 
is incapable of adapting itself to progressive 
external changes. In reality the parent-figures 
would be influenced by reason in their con- 
duct and would be accessible to the claims of 
a new situation. Naturally they would be pre- 
pared to concede to the thirty-year-old man 
what was forbidden to the three-year-old 
child. But that part of the ego which has been 


formed from the demands and standards of 
the parents remains inexorable. 

The following examples are given to eluci- 
date these points. 1 know a boy who was ex- 
tremely fond of dainties in his earliest years. 
As his passion for dainties was too great to be 
satisfied by legitimate means, he hit upon all 
kinds of unlawful expedients and dodges in 
order to procure sweets, spent all the money 
he possessed upon them and was not too par- 
ticular as to how he procured more. Educa- 
tion was called upon to act; the boy was for- 
bidden sweets, and his passionate devotion to 
his mother, who had interfered with his pleas- 
ure, gave special emphasis to the prohibition. 
His extreme fondness for dainties disap- 
peared, to the great satisfaction of his elders. 
Yet today this lad, now an adolescent who has 
plenty of money at his disposal and the free- 
dom to buy up all the sweetmeats of the Vien- 
nese confectionery shops, is not able to eat a 
piece of chocolate without blushing furi- 
ously. Everybody who observes him is at once 
certain that he is doing something forbidden 
that he is eating things bought with stolen 


money. You notice that the restrictions im- 
posed upon him earlier have not automati- 
cally yielded to the changed situation. 

Listen again to another example, this time 
not so harmless. A boy loves his mother with 
special tenderness; all his desires are directed 
toward filling the place which actually be- 
longs to his father, and toward being her con- 
fidant and protector and her best-beloved. 
The child now suffers repeatedly the devas- 
tating experience that his father is the right- 
ful owner of the position for which he is striv- 
ing. It is his father who has the power to send 
him away from his mother at any time and to 
show him his own childish helplessness and 
impotence. The prohibition to aspire to his 
father's place is strengthened by his own fear 
of the father's great potency. Later, when he is 
an adolescent, this boy evinces a tormenting 
timidity and uncertainty which he feels as an 
unbearable obstacle when he finds himself in 
the same house as the girl he loves. The basis 
of his fear is that somebody may come and de- 
clare that the place he is occupying belongs to 
another and he has no right to it. To avoid this 


extremely painful situation he employs a 
great deal of his energy in preparing excuses 
which could plausibly explain to this other 
person his presence there. 

Or take another case. A tiny little girl de- 
velops an extreme pleasure in her naked 
body, shows herself naked to her brothers and 
sisters, and delights in running through the 
rooms stark naked before she goes to bed. Ed- 
ucation steps in and again with success. The 
little girl now makes a very great effort to sup- 
press this desire. The result Is an intense feel- 
ing of modesty that continues in later life. 
When the question of choosing a career arises 
somebody suggests an occupation which 
would necessitate sharing a room with com- 
panions. She unhesitatingly states that this 
career is not for her. Behind the rational mo- 
tive the fear is ultimately revealed that she 
will have to undress before the others. The 
question of qualification or preference for the 
career is of no consequence compared with 
the strength of the prohibition carried over 
from childhood. 

The psychoanalyst who is engaged in his 


therapeutic work of "resolving* 9 such inhibi- 
tions and disturbances in development cer- 
tainly learns to know education from its worst 
side. Here, he feels, they have been shooting 
at sparrows with cannon balls! Would it not 
have been better perhaps to have given some- 
what less value to decorum and convention in 
these various nurseries, and to have let the first 
child be greedy and the second imagine him- 
self in the role of the father; to have permitted 
the third child to run about naked and a 
fourth to play with his genitals? Would these 
childish gratifications really have had any im- 
portant adverse effect as compared with the 
damage wrought by a so-called "good educa- 
tion'? Compare them with the division which 
is thus introduced into the childish person- 
ality; the way in which one part of him is in- 
cited against another; see how the capacity to 
love is diminished and the child grows up in- 
capable, perhaps, of enjoyment and of ac- 
complishing his life-work. The analyst to 
whom all this is apparent resolves, so far as he 
is concerned, not to aid such an education, 
but to leave his own children free rather than 


to educate in this way. He would rather risk 
the chance of their being somewhat uncon- 
trolled in the end instead of forcing on them 
from the outset such a crippling of their in- 

But you are, I feel sure, shocked at the one- 
sidedness of my views. It is high time to 
change the standpoint. Education appears to 
us in another light when we have another aim 
in view for example, when it is concerned 
with the neglected child, such as August Aich- 
horn deals with in his book Neglected Youth, 

The neglected child, says Aichhorn, refuses 
to take his place in society. He cannot succeed 
in controlling his instinctive impulses; he 
cannot divert enough energy from his sexual 
instincts to employ them for purposes more 
highly esteemed by society. He refuses, there- 
fore, to submit to the restrictions which are 
binding on the society in which he lives, and 
equally withdraws from any participation in 
its life and work. No one who has had to do 
with this type of child in an educational or 
psychoanalytical connection can fail to regret 
that in his childhood there had been no force 


from without which succeeded in restricting 
his instinctual life, so that these external 
checks would have been gradually trans- 
formed into inner restrictions. 

Take as an example a child who for a little 
while occupied the attention of the Vienna 
Children's Court. This eight-year-old girl was 
equally impossible both at home and at 
school. From every educational institute or 
convalescent home she was unhesitatingly 
sent back to her parents, after three days at the 
most. She refused to learn anything or to share 
in the activities of the other children. She pre- 
tended to be stupid, and so cleverly that in 
several places she was diagnosed as mentally 
defective. During the lessons she lay down on 
a bench and played with her sexual parts. Any 
interruption of this occupation resulted in a 
wild howling horrifying to the grownups. At 
home she was ill-treated this was the only 
idea the parents had of dealing with her. An 
analytic investigation showed two things. The 
external circumstances were peculiarly un- 
favorable to the development of any kind of 
emotional relations between the child and her 


environment. No one could offer a love that 
would have in any way compensated the child 
for giving up the gratification obtained from 
her own body. It also showed that the severe 
punishments from which the parents had ob- 
viously expected a restraining influence could 
not fulfill this purpose. Either owing to her 
own disposition or on account of significant 
early experience, the little girl had developed 
such strong masochistic tendencies that each 
beating could only become once more a stim- 
ulus to sex excitement and sex activity. Com- 
pare this case of neglect with the one of repres- 
sion which I described to you earlier. You can 
see that a free and self-reliant human being 
does not evolve from this child either. She is 
nothing but a cowed little animal whose 
further moral development has stopped si- 
multaneously with her mental growth. 

Aichhorn mentions in his book Neglected 
Youth another severe case of maldevelopment 
that of a boy who from about his sixth year 
onward had found every kind of sexual grati- 
fication in his mother, and finally, after reach- 
ing sexual maturity, lived with her in actual 


sexual intercourse. He had thus actually ac- 
complished what the other children had en- 
joyed only in fantasy. Neither has this boy de- 
veloped into a self-reliant, harmonious, vigor- 
ous human being, as we might have expected, 
considering the evil effects of education de- 
scribed above. 

A kind of "short-circuiting* ' had occurred 
in his development. By the actual fulfillment 
of his childhood's wishes he had saved himself 
the necessity of traversing the whole circle of 
"becoming grown-up/' The wish to become 
like his father in order to attain all the possi- 
bilities of the gratifications permitted to his 
father was now superfluous. He had indeed 
escaped the ' 'splitting" of his personality, but 
in return for that he had given up any further 

But you will find that the problem is not so 
difficult as I have represented it to you, and 
that disturbances in development and delin- 
quency may be merely extreme results, show- 
ing, on the one hand, the injurious effect of 
too great repression, on the other the lack of 
all restraint. The task of a pedagogy based 


upon analytic data is to find a via media be- 
tween these extremes that is to say, to allow 
to each stage in the child's life the right pro- 
portion of instinct-gratification and instinct- 

Possibly a detailed description of this new 
analytical pedagogy should have been the con- 
tent of my lectures to you. But for the present 
no analytical pedagogy exists. We have only 
as yet individual educators who are interested 
in this work, and having been analyzed them- 
selves they now seek to apply to the education 
of children the understanding that psycho- 
analysis has brought to them of their own in- 
stinctual life. It will be a long time before 
theory and practice are complete and can be 
recommended for general use. 

But in spite of this you ought not to say 
that psychoanalysis has done nothing beyond 
giving indications as to the future; that it cer- 
tainly does not profit teachers engaged in 
practical work to study psychoanalysis, and 
that probably it would be better to dissuade 
them from having anything to do with it. Nor 
should you say that they had better make en- 


quiries in ten or twenty years' time as to what 
has been accomplished meanwhile in the ap- 
plication o psychoanalysis to pedagogics. 

I maintain that even today psychoanalysis 
does three things for pedagogy. In the first 
place, it is well qualified to offer a criticism of 
existing educational methods. In the second 
place, the teacher's knowledge of human be- 
ings is extended, and his understanding of the 
complicated relations between the child and 
the educator is sharpened by psychoanalysis, 
which gives us a scientific theory of the in- 
stincts, of the unconscious and of the libido. 
Finally, as a method of practical treatment, in 
the analysis of children, it endeavors to repair 
the injuries which are inflicted upon the child 
during the processes of education. 

The following example illustrates the sec- 
ond point, i.e. it explains the pedagogical situ- 
ation by means of the unconscious back- 
ground of the conscious behavior. 

An excellent woman teacher began her 
career in her eighteenth year when, in con- 
sequence of unhappy family circumstances, 
she left home to take a post as governess to 


three boys. The second boy presented a seri- 
ous educational problem. He was backward 
in his lessons and appeared very timid, re- 
served, and dull; he played a subordinate 
part in the family, and in contrast to his two 
gifted and attractive brothers was constantly 
pushed into the background. The teacher de- 
voted all her efforts and interest to this boy, 
and in a comparatively short time had ob- 
tained a wonderful success. 

The boy got very fond of her, was more 
devoted to her than he had ever been to any- 
body before, and became frank and friendly 
in his ways. His interest in lessons increased, 
and by her efforts she succeeded in teaching 
him in one year the subjects laid down for 
two years, so that he was no longer behind 
in his work. The parents were now proud of 
this child, whom until then they had treated 
with but slight affection; they took much 
more trouble about him, and his relations to 
them and also to his brothers improved, until 
the little boy was finally accepted as a most 
valued member of the family circle. There- 
upon an unexpected difficulty arose. The 


teacher to whom the success was entirely due 
began now on her side to have trouble with 
the boy. She no longer gave him any love, and 
could not get on with him. Finally, she left 
the house, where she was greatly appreciated, 
on account of the very child who had been in 
the beginning the center of attraction to her. 
The psychoanalytic treatment which she 
underwent nearly fifteen years later for peda- 
gogic reasons revealed to her the true facts of 
the case. In her own home, as a child, she had, 
with more or less justification, imagined her- 
self the unloved child the same position in 
which she had actually found the second boy 
when she began her work with him. On the 
ground of similar slighting treatment she had 
seen herself in this boy, and had identified 
herself with him. All the love and care which 
she had lavished upon him meant that she was 
really saying to herself: "That is the way I 
ought to have been treated to make something 
out of me." Success, when it came, destroyed 
this identification. It made the pupil an inde- 
pendent being who could no longer be identi- 


fied with her own life. The hostile feelings 
toward him arose from envy; she could not 
help grudging him the success which she her- 
self had never attained. 

You will say, perhaps, it was a good thing 
that this teacher, when she dealt with her 
pupil, had not yet been analyzed; otherwise 
we should have lost a fine educational success. 
But I feel that these educational successes are 
too dearly bought. They are paid for by the 
failures with those children who are not fortu- 
nate enough to reveal symptoms of suffering 
which remind the teacher of her own child- 
hood and so make sympathy with them pos- 
sible for her. I hold we are right in demanding 
that the teacher or educator should have 
learned to know and to control his own con- 
flicts before he begins his educational work. If 
this is not so, the pupils merely serve as more 
or less suitable material on which to abreact 
his own unconscious and unsolved difficulties. 

But in addition, the manifest behavior of 
the child is very seldom sufficient ground for 
a correct judgment. I will now give you the 


following notes which a boy dictated as the 
first chapter of an extensive book. As is so 
often the case with children, it remained a 



"Here, you grown-up people, listen to me, if 
you want to know something! Don't be too 
cocky and imagine that children can't do 
everything that grown-up people do. But they 
can do most of what you do. But children will 
never obey if you order them about like this, 
for example: 'Now, go and undress, quick's 
the word, get along/ Then they will never un- 
dress, don't you believe it. But when you 
speak nicely, then they will do it at once. You 
think you can do all you want to do, but don't 
imagine any such thing. And don't ever say: 
'You must do this, you "must" do that!' No 
one 'must * do things, neither therefore 'must' 
children do things. You think children 'must' 


wash themselves. Certainly not. Then you say, 
'But If you don't wash, everybody will say "Oh 
fie, how dirty he is!" and so you "must'' wash 
yourself/ No, he 'mustn't/ but he does wash, 
so that people won't call him dirty. 

"When you tell children what they are to 
do that's enough, and don't tell them so much 
about how they are to do it, for they do what 
they think right, just as you do. And don't 
always say to them, 'You "mustn't" buy such 
and such a thing/ for if they pay for it them- 
selves they can buy what they like. Don't al- 
ways say to children, 'You can't do that!' For 
they can do many things better than you, and 
you won't ever believe it, and afterwards you 
are astonished. Don't always talk so much; let 
the children sometimes get a word in!" 

Now, suppose these written remarks were 
found in a school and taken to the head 
master. He would say to himself that this was 
a dangerous boy on whom one must keep 
one's eye. From further enquiry he would find 
out still more serious things about him. The 
boy was in the habit of making blasphemous 


remarks about God; he described the priests 
in language that can scarcely be repeated; he 
strongly urged his companions not to put up 
with any interference, and indeed he even 
planned to go into the zoological gardens and 
set free the animals whom he regarded as 
wrongfully imprisoned there. Now a conserv- 
ative teacher of the old school would say: The 
rebellious spirit of this boy must be broken by 
some means or other before it is too late and 
he has become a serious menace to society. A 
modern educator, on the contrary, would 
have the highest hopes of this child's future, 
and would expect to see in him a future leader 
and liberator of the masses. 

I must tell you that both teachers would be 
wrong, and all methods of training which they 
might base upon their knowledge of the mani- 
fest situation would be harmful and false. 
The eight-year-old boy is a harmless little 
coward, who is in terror when a dog barks at 
him, who is frightened to go along the dark 
passage in the evening, and certainly would 
not be capable of injuring a fly. His rebellious 
sayings come about in the following way. His 


early passionate emotional relations, accom- 
panied by an intense preoccupation with his 
penis, were destroyed as the result of educa- 
tion and of medical treatment from which he 
experienced severe shock. As a safeguard 
against new temptations there remained an 
immense fear, that of being punished on the 
guilty part of his body, the fear which psycho- 
analysis names castration-fear. This fear 
caused him now to deny any kind of author- 
ity. When anybody has power, he says to him- 
self, then he has the power to punish me. Con- 
sequently every possibility of a heavenly or 
earthly ruler must be removed from the 
world. The greater his fear of temptation the 
more he seeks to drown it by his quite harm- 
less attacks on those in authority. This noisy 
method of protecting himself is, moreover, 
not his only one. Although he acts the part of 
an atheist, he kneels down in the evening and 
prays, secretly impelled by fear. He thinks: 
"There is indeed no God. But perhaps after 
all there might be one, and then it would be 
a good thing, in any case, to behave properly 
to Him." Now I take it this boy will become 


neither a menace to society nor a liberator of 
the masses. What he needs is, indeed, neither 
admiration of his efforts nor harshness and re- 
strictions, but only by some means or other 
an abatement of his fear which will enable 
him, released now from his neurotic way of 
living, to obtain later on the capacity for en- 
joyment and work. 

The psychoanalytic method of treatment 
which can achieve this is, then, the third serv- 
ice that psychoanalysis has rendered to educa- 
tion. But the description of this method, 
namely, child analysis, would go far beyond 
the limits of this course. 


Adolescence, in relation to 

emotional development, 


Adolescents, criminal, 15 
Adults, investigation into 

mind of, 20-21 
AICHHORN, Neglected Youth, 

101, 103 
Anus, child's attitude to, 53, 


Association of ideas, seen in 
relation of children to 
parents, 69-70 


abnormal sexual develop- 
ment, 103-104 
case of forbidden sweets, 97- 


case of retarded develop- 
ment, 106-109 

extreme love of mother, 98 

Career, choice of, 99 

-complex, 70, 73 

-fear, 113 

Child (see also Mother, Fa- 
ther, Infant) 

death wishes of, 35, 41, 74 

Child (continued) 
dependence on mother, 26- 

28, 61-62 
diary of, 110-114 
dread of death of, 34 
emotional experiences of, 


jealousy in, 30-32, 34, 35, 74 
periods in life of, 92-94 
relations to family of, 28-29, 

34> 3 6 -37 

sense of smell, 54-55 

sensual pleasures, 59 
Child care, definition of, 44 

cruelty of, and explanation 
by psychoanalysis, 55-56 

naughtinesses of, 46-49 

neglected, cases of, 101-104 
Children's Court case, 102-103 
Children's Home Laboratory 


Children's Horts (see Horts) 
Cleanliness, training in, 52-56 
Conscience, 87-88 

Death-wishes, 35, 41, 74 
Delinquency, 104 
Destructiveness in children, 



Development, stages of, 60 
Don Carlos, by SCHILLER, 42 


aims of, 45 

beginning of, 39 

child's view of, 47 

danger of, 95-101 

definition of, 42-43 

effect on child, 74-79 

in conflict with child, 57-61 , 
66-67, 8 9 

in latency period, 82, 84, 90 

relation of psychoanalysis 

10,95-96, 100, 106, 114 
Ego of the child, 88-89, 9 94 

conflicts and repetitions, 35- 


experiences of little child, 

relationship in families, 31. 

(see also Father, Mother) 
Environment, effect on child, 
40, 102 

Family, 34-36, 40 (see also 

Family love, 31 

Fantasy, 76-77, 104 


part played by, 33-37, 41, 43 
exual relation to daughter 


Fears due to pressure of edu- 
cation, 74 (see also Cas- 

Feces, child's interest in, 52- 

Forgetfulness (see Memory) 

Games, significance of certain, 

54, 68-69 
Genitals, role played by, 56, 


German law case, influence of 
psychoanalysis in, 38, 42 

Good children, 77, 8 1 

Greediness, 51 

Guerilla war, between edu- 
cator and child, 57-58 


bad, 47, 48 

conquest of, 62, 68 

origin explained by psycho- 
analysis, 48-49, 51, 54, 57 
Heredity, 14 

Home environment, 40-41 
Horts, 11, 12, 15, 19, 34, 75, 83, 

Hort teachers, 11-14, 16, 17 

I^ea-complexes, 69-70 


development of childish, 72 
instinctive, 58, 94-95 

Infant, dependence on mother 
and its effects, 26-28 

Infantile impulses 
effect of renunciation, 63 
renunciation of pleasure 

from, 62 
weakening of, 80 



Inhibitions, resolving of, 100 
Inner dissatisfaction, 88 
Inner satisfaction, 88 
Inner world, its dynamic 
force, 66 

Jealousy, 29-33 ( see a 

Juvenile courts, cases in, 43 

child, 18 

teacher, 18, 73 (see also 

Libido, 72, 95, 106 

to mother, 43 

to teacher, 107 

Masturbation, 58 
Memory, 23, 24-25 
gaps in, 63, 65 
Mistakes, cause of, in daily 

life, 24-25 
Modesty, intense feeling of, 

Moscow, Children's Home in, 

Mother, part played by, 29, 

35-37' 8 5-86 (see also 

Child, Infant) 
Mouth, part played by, 49-51, 


Naughtinesses (see under 

Neglected child, 14, 101, 102 

Neglected Youth, by AICH- 

HORN, 1O1, 1O3 


-complex, 70, 72, 84, 91 
King, significance of story 
of, 42 

Parent-figures, 96 
Parent-incorporation, 89, 96 

child's judgment of, 37 
effects on education of 

child, 76, 78 
in relation to children, 47, 

69-70, 85-89 
of child, 94-95 
splitting, 104 
Perverts, 60 
as means of explaining hab- 
its, 24-25 
explanation of teacher's 

conduct by, 108 
influence on education, 95, 

104-105, 106, 114 
law-case decision due to, 39 
memory gaps explained by 3 


principles of, 92-97 
teachers' suspicion of, 1 1 
view of, in relation to sex- 
ual activities, 58-59, 71- 



Puberty, 71,86, 93 
Pupils, in relation to teachers, 
19, 84, 90-91 

by substitution, 68, 72 
definition of, 67-68 
Reality-achievement, as sub- 
stitute for fantasy, 103- 

a fundamental idea of psy- 
choanalysis, 72 
evil effects of, 104 
process of, explained, 66 

SCHILLER, Don Carlos, 42 
SCHMIDT, Mme. Vera, Chil- 
dren's Home Laboratory, 


behavior of children in, 17, 

difficulties of teachers in, 

explanation of behavior of 

children in, 34-35 
its attitude and relation to 
pupils in latency period, 
82-83, 90-91 
object of, 83 
Science, in relation to the 

child's nature, 48 
Self-investigation, its value 

and limitations, 21-22 

Sexual matters and functions 

interest of child in, 56, 59 

Sexual matters (continued) 
psychoanalysis in relation 

to, 58-61, 71-72 
sexual development of ab- 
normal boy, 103-104 
Smell, child's sense of, 54-55 
Sphincter muscles in relation 

to cleanliness, 52, 53 
Splitting of personality, 104 
Struwelpeter, 61 
Sublimation, the refinement 

of an impulse, 69 

its sexual significance, 58 
pleasure afforded by, 50 

conflict with the libido, 94- 


the ideal of the child, 88 
the incorporation of the 

parents, 88-89 
the successor to the parents, 


the teacher as, 91 
Sympathy, unusual sense of, 
due to reaction-forma- 
tion, 68 

Teacher (see also School, Pu- 

P ii) 

analysis of, necessary, 109 
case of teacher and difficult 

boy, 106-109 
pupils in relation to, 84, 90- 


Transference, its meaning and 
effects, 62-63, 71 

INDEX 119 

Unconscious Vienna 

as explanation of behavior, Children's Court case, 102 

109-114 Children's Horts (see 

effect of knowledge of, to Horts) 

teacher, 106-109 Vocation, choice of (see Ga- 

part played by, 65-66, 72 reer) 


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BP82 COULTON, G. G. Ten Medieval Studies 
BP83 EGGLESTON, EDWARD. The Transit of Civiliza- 

BP84 USHER, A. P. A History of Mechanical Inventions 
BP85 COULTON, G. G. Inquisition and Liberty 
BP86 VAN DOREN, MARK. Liberal Education 
BP87 JOY, CHARLES. Music in the Life of Albert 


BP88 MANSFIELD, KATHERINE. Novels and Novelists 
BP89 MILLER, PERRY. Orthodoxy in Massachusetts, 1630- 


BP91 HEINE, HEINRICH. Religion and Philosophy in 

BP92 MAYORGA, MARGARET. The Best Short Plays, 


BP93 RUSSELL, BERTRAND. Authority and the Indi- 
BP94 GLOVER, T. R. The Conflict of Religions in the 

Early Roman Empire 

BP95 HAY, MALCOLM. Europe and the Jews 
BP96 POLLARD, A. F. Factors in Modern History 

BP97 NICOLSON, HAROLD. Good Behaviour 

BP98 POLLOCK, FREDERICK. The History of the Science 

of Politics 

BP99 FRIEDLANDER, MAX. On Art and Connoisseurship 
BP100 MONNEROT, JULES. Sociology and Psychology of 


BP101 SAX, KARL. Standing Room Only 
BP102 BLANSHARD, PAUL. American Freedom and Catho- 
lic Power 
BP103 MAYORGA, MARGARET. The Best Short Plays, 


BP104 DRUCKER, PETER. Concept of the Corporation 
BP105 MORISON, SAMUEL ELIOT. An Hour of American 

BP106 BOORSTIN, DANIEL. The Lost World of Thomas 


BP108 SIDGWICK, HENRY. Outlines of the History of 

BP109 FREUD, ANNA. Psychoanalysis for Teachers and 


BP110 MARCUSE, HERBERT. Reason and Revolution 

Knowing and the Known 


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